At that time, I felt extremely honored and proud to be a Red Guard. Of course, back then I absolutely did not believe in feudal superstitions. However, this mindset did not last long, because later I encountered something that shook my beliefs and ultimately saved my own life.

Here’s what happened: a few days after the big “Four Olds” cleanup on the streets of the capital, I was called back to school by my classmates because the school’s Red Guard organization had a new task. I was a first-year high school student at the time. When I arrived at school, I realized that the so-called new task was to criticize and denounce Principal.

To be honest, our Principal was not a bad person, and I was puzzled when I heard about this task. Because I had been sick for many years, my family was very poor, and the only reason I could afford to attend secondary school was because Principal had reached out to help me. Now, hearing that we were to denounce Principal, I began to feel uneasy.

Speaking of our Principal, before the founding of the country, he had traveled to several countries teaching at secondary schools, and could truly be called well-read and learned. After the founding, he overcame countless difficulties to return to serve the country. At first, he was a professor at a university in China, and later was assigned to our secondary school as Principal. Now, with the outbreak of the Cultural Revolution, the Captain of our school’s Red Guard organization (who was just a high school student) accused Principal of being a “monster and demon,” a member of the “black five categories,” and a rightist, saying he colluded with foreign countries—a long list of charges. So our school’s Captain led us to storm into Principal’s office to arrest him.

Of course, although I felt I couldn’t bring myself to denounce someone who had been so kind to me, I still followed behind the group. Maybe I was too young then to judge right from wrong, but in the end, I went along.

When we arrived at the office, our Captain immediately pointed at Principal and rattled off a long list of accusations. With a wave of his hand, a large group of Red Guards surged forward and seized him.

Because Principal refused to submit, Captain dragged him to the school playground and ordered us to beat him, leaving him bruised and battered, unable to move. Afterwards, Captain pointed to an ancient pagoda not far from the school and ordered one group of Red Guards to lock Principal inside, while another group followed him to Principal’s home to arrest his entire family.

Just like that, all four or five members of Principal’s family, young and old, were imprisoned in the pagoda by us and suffered greatly. As for me, I witnessed all of this with my own eyes…

At the time, I wanted to step forward and say a few good words for Principal, but I knew it was useless. If I tried to defend Principal, not only would I fail to save him, but I would also implicate myself. So I could only watch as my benefactor endured such inhuman torment.

A few days later, Principal could no longer bear the suffering. One day, when none of us were around, he strangled his wife and children one by one, and then jumped from the pagoda to his own death…

In those days, death was common and nothing to be surprised about. When the Red Guard Captain saw that Principal was dead, he led everyone back to school.

Because Principal had been kind to me, and having witnessed his suffering with my own eyes, I felt deep sympathy for him. Out of compassion, or perhaps gratitude, that night I went home, found some incense, candles, yellow paper, and a bottle of white liquor, and risked my life to go to the pagoda where Principal had died to pay my respects.

You might say, “It’s just going to the pagoda to pay respects to the dead—how is that risking your life?” But I’m telling the truth: in those years, let alone paying respects to a counterrevolutionary, even just burning incense and paper—if you were caught, you’d be severely criticized and couldn’t escape punishment. Burning incense and paper was considered feudal superstition, and who dared do such things in those days? Only I, unable to bear seeing Principal suffer so miserably, risked my life to pay tribute to him.

At the time, afraid of being seen by outsiders, I waited until midnight before daring to head to the pagoda. The pagoda wasn’t far from my home—just about twenty minutes’ walk. But as I approached the pagoda, I suddenly froze, because I distinctly heard strange noises coming from that direction!

I stopped and listened carefully, and realized the strange sound was like crying—“woo woo,” wailing…

I started to feel puzzled. The pagoda had long been deserted, so how could there be crying? At that time, I was still an atheist, with only the Chairman in my heart. Driven by curiosity, I tiptoed slowly toward the pagoda.

As I got closer, the crying became even clearer. Listening carefully, I was startled—it was Principal’s voice! This was the first time I ever felt fear of ghosts, because Principal had clearly died during the day, so how could he still be crying? The only explanation was that it was haunted!

Although I was terribly frightened, I still mustered my courage and quietly poked my head around the side of the pagoda wall, peering in the direction of the crying. What I saw made my face change dramatically: on the very spot where Principal had jumped to his death during the day, there stood a dark, shadowy figure! I couldn’t see the figure clearly, but its height was eerily similar to Principal, and what terrified me even more was that Principal’s crying was coming from its mouth!